That's What Pastors Are For

I will lift up my eyes to the hills-- From whence comes my help? 
     My help comes from the LORD, Who made heaven and earth.

He will not allow your foot to be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber.
     Behold, He who keeps Israel Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is your keeper; The LORD is your shade at your right hand.
     The sun shall not strike you by day, Nor the moon by night.

The LORD shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. 
     The LORD shall preserve your going out and your coming in
     From this time forth, and even forevermore. --Psalm 121

For me, the pleasure derived from attending City Council meetings is similar to the pleasure of fixing a flat tire, or getting a tooth pulled, or removing a sliver: It is not something I look forward to, and I am greatly relieved when it is over. So when I read in the newspaper last week that on that very evening, our City Council was about to take yet another immoral public policy stance, my groan was audible.

Since somebody had to do something, I phoned the Pastor. Surely he knew what our local "public servants" were scheduled to do in less than three hours, and would already have mustered an army of believers to march into the City Council chambers en masse to fight the latest attack on righteousness. As it happened, having recently returned from a trip, he was unaware of that evening's agenda. Further, although he had another meeting to attend that evening, he considered the matter at hand important enough to reschedule his other meeting. "Thanks for letting me know," he said. "I'll see you there."

What? See me there? But I hate those meetings of what one friend calls the Silly Council. I had only wanted to make sure the Pastor would be there, with a sufficient force to engage the enemy yet again. If more troops were needed, I could make some phone calls and add to the numbers, but hey, I had plans of my own that evening.

I made some phone calls, but found only one likely supporter at home, a politically minded saint who was himself earnestly attempting to marshal support for the night's skirmish. Well, I thought, even if I'm not going to the meeting, at least I can pray, so I got down on my knees. Yet as I spoke to the Lord and listened for His direction, it was as though I were Joshua after the defeat of the Israelites at Ai, when God said to him, "Get up! Why do you lie thus on your face?"

The meeting was ugly as expected, with those on the other side--including the pastor of a local church--criticizing our position and assaulting us with hateful, irrelevant words. Of about 20 speakers, only three of us--my Pastor, the politically minded friend, and myself--stood up to make statements consistent with Scriptural teaching. When the dust had settled, the Silly Council once again caved in to the pressure from the other side, dragging the official moral position of the City deeper into the slime pit.

As I left the meeting, I was neither disheartened nor discouraged, for echoing in my head were the words from Psalm 121, "I will lift up my eyes to the hills..." Yet I did feel lonely and empty. When I had returned home, though, there was a message from the Pastor on the answering machine:

Hi, Jim. Just to let you know we won tonight. Isaiah said, "In the year Uzziah died..." That's when morality dies. Lift up your eyes. I saw the Lord. He's still there. He's still on the throne. Praise God!

I was so encouraged! He even used the same words (about lifting up the eyes to see the Lord) of which I had been thinking. Isn't that what pastors are for? If not for his response when I telephoned him--immediately deciding to spend the evening at City Hall, which he enjoys about as much as I do--I would not have attended the meeting at all.

We didn't change the minds of the Silly Council, but we obeyed God. We spoke up against evil because we believe God called us to do so. The enemy sought to discourage us through circumstances and lies, but we were faithful to get up and say what needed to be said, keeping our tempers in restraint and remaining respectful. We won. And the game ain't over until it's over.

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